The Heir To The World
by TheSirenMonster
Summary: A part of my discontinued story of "The Fork In The Road", that tells what happened after years Mickey and Vaas had been together. I thought she deserved it, because she was a mother-less lass.


**A quick story, on what would happen if Mickey were able to bear children. **

**Because she deserves it.**

* * *

How long had it been, since the bond had finally tightened between Vaas and Mickey? It feels like a lifetime now, as the island had gone through the repeated cycle of seasons and tropical storms, crashing ocean waves and angered spirits from above sending their hatred towards the cursed island with fury.

Something wasn't crackling, though, through all the might with destruction and mayhem of battles and a war between family. It had been a long time.

How was Mickey? She is fine. Still the woman, who was once detached with reality, from a traumatic experience in her younger years. This island had accepted that side of herself, an alter ego not allowed to be unleashed. She adapted, raised and consumed the power of the island's hidden strength, and honed it. She was still a woman who doubted herself, even though she were strong. A feisty red-head, still with the ditzy personality and the saucy smile when she laughed. A born-again Mickey.

And, Vaas? He is also well. Not completely, though. Since his completion in defeating his sister in an island war, he had gone through traumatic experiences of his own. As much as he hated Citra - always wanting her to perish for what she had done to his past - he still knew that she was his sister. A bloodline that was sliced. The drug use became excessive, putting him through short-term comas and seizures. Their new island doctor, Eyes, was there to help Vaas, recovering him from seizure attacks or overdoses that he foolishly made himself gulp down.

Vaas was always so close to die.

"But, you can't die yet, moron," Mickey said, while brushing back Vaas' mohawk spikes with her cybernetic hand.

Vaas cracked one pearly green eye open at his wife. He quirked a smirk at her, while he still laid in his cot. "You wouldn't let me."

"Nope." Mickey simply said, tapping her fingertip on his brow. "And, perhaps for other reasons as to why..." She rolled her eyes, looking away from Vaas.

"What?" Vaas chuckled, moving his weary hand up to hold her prosthetic hand.

After a time to think over her words to answer, Mickey looked back to her husband and grinned widely. "I'm pregnant."

It was a moment in Vaas' life that made everything change. Reality hit him hard, when he heard those words fall from his wife's lips. He felt confused, scared... and excited at the same time. His own child? It felt like a rotten lie - a killer, able to bear children. He wanted to think it were a joke, but when the months begun to pass by, and Mickey's flat stomach started extending, he knew he shouldn't laugh any further.

Mickey had her full trust in Vaas in this. She wanted this child. It would be her first, and she wasn't turning her back on it. She had always wanted children of her own, and this was a gift given to her, finally, after all her efforts to stay alive on Rook Island. Vaas knew fully that she wanted a baby, how much she would cherish each day with the newborn in her arms, and watch as it grew in her love and nurture. Vaas couldn't take this from her.

And he didn't want to.

He wanted this child as well. It was a sign to him now - a second chance at a fucked up life he had been leading for who-knows how long. For years, Vaas begun to drift from reality, believing in the idea that he were truly a monster, and no longer a human being. This baby would be the hit to the head that he needed.

He wasn't perfect. Both of them weren't. They couldn't take back the countless lives they had taken, or the destruction they caused over the short years together. But, maybe Vaas could make up for the years now. Maybe the two psychopaths could stay hand-in-hand in their demise, walking through that fire towards their obscure peace and solace, together.

* * *

(Many Years Later...)

It had been seventeen years now, and Rook Island still remained alive.

Lives died, but new ones were born. Shacks and shanties fell, but the people rebuilt. Bruises were caused, but they eventually healed. Seasons came and left, but they repeated their cycle over and over again, with tropic storms and unexpected events of tragedy. But everything was still here.

And, that new child of Mickey's...?

"Hey, you, with the spikes!" A voice that sounded just like Uncle Jackal hollered out, on the familiar path of jungle ground that he knew "spikes" would surely be at. Jackal's eyes looked up, towards a leaning tree branch that was almost laying horizontally. On the branch, there was a person, lounging back with his body resting on the leaning branch, and back against the tree trunk, seemingly taking a nap as his arms remained folded. "You're not even sleeping, you little shit." Jackal growled lowly. "Get down from there and help with the cargo!"

The person made a saucy, thick smirk underneath the grayish hood that covered his identity. He sat upright, throwing the hood off backwards, and ruffled his head of perfectly, messy jet-black spikes. He made a long yawn, while pushing himself off the tree branch, jumping down to the dirt ground with a heavy thud, landing on his two feet like a cat.

"Geez, you sleep more than your old man, Dan," Jackal mocked the lad, smirking after he saw a glare.

"Ey, fuck you, too, Uncle." The lad rolled his eyes afterwards.

This was the one that we've waited for. The child.

His name was Dangelo Montenegro, fully. A name both Vaas and Mickey had given him. Dangelo meant "sent from an angel". But of course, the two parents were nothing religious or anything close to worshiping a God, but this angel was something from both sides of their families, they believed. The dearly beloved they missed so much that had died of disaster or murder.

But was Dangelo an angel himself? Of course not. Dangelo was far from ever earning the right to even have a halo. He was rather more honorable to have horns and giant bat wings as his reward for being such a destructive, impatient, unfeeling psychopath. Just like his Father, Dangelo was all the more insane to deal with. He shared many traits from both parents, having more features of his Father, and toxic personality. He had his Mother's witty, wise-cracking attitude, full of sass, loud-mouthed, unafraid stature.

Just like Vaas, Dangelo was as pale as he was. He was also muscular, working in a kingdom-jungle over the years making him so. He had pitch-black hair like Vaas, but never cut it down to a mohawk. He wanted to always keep it short, tame it with gel to form spikes at the back of his head. His eyes, though, were a mix of his Mother's and Father's. His were a special hazel color. His eyes were as large as Vaas'. He was tall as Vaas, but smarter and stronger than his own Father - not to mention, a handsome devil, like his devious Mother and psychotic Father.

"Ah, God -" Jackal complained, narrowing his eyes at Dangelo. "Every time I see you, I think of your crazy dad."

Dangelo made a pouty face at Jackal, mocking him. Just like Mickey would do. "You gonna go cry more, or are we gonna go get this over with?" He asked curtly.

His voice was molded to a British Accent, all because of his Mother. But, not as thick as her's. Also being around his Father, he learned how to speak Spanish, Laotian, and English perfectly - the main languages of his island. He spoke some of his words with an unconscious Spanish accent at times, and then a British one. It was an odd mix of accents together passing foreign lips.

After a day of hunting and slaughtering large mammals and shipping their meaty bodies into trucks to send to the village, Dangelo was met by Aunt Dynamite. Yes, it was still the boy genius Dynamite, but now an older, more mature one. He was only called "Aunt" because he and Jackal were heterosexually close. Dangelo didn't mind it - calling a man his Aunt. He thought it was normal, actually. Obviously had never visited the stereotypical America yet, of course.

"Remember to tell your parents about the updated gadgets they'll need for their prosthetic limbs, okay? They seem to occasionally forget to visit me for that." Dynamite said, while handing Dangelo a heavy gym-bag from an opened truck door. "This is Mickey's. She let me borrow it for my experiment on the mammals you caught last week. Tell her she can have it back now."

"Sure thing." Dangelo nonchalantly nodded, taking the bag strap in his bandaged hand. "Thanks again, Auntie."

"Of course." Dynamite nodded back, before turning to climb into the large armed truck, where Uncle Jackal was waiting for him. The smooth sound of Dynamite's cybernetic legs rolled, with gears humming as his knee bend to climb into the truck. Dangelo was very much use to cyborgs living in his life. He just hoped to not become a cyborg like his parents. What a nightmare.

The truck engine roared loudly, black smoke spewing from the back as it started to move forward with a press of the pedal. Dangelo turned to the opposite direction and started down the dirt path, listening to the two men in the truck arguing about something on driving. Dynamite always complained about Jackal's driving, no surprise.

* * *

"When did your signs of bipolar start to appear?"

"I dunno. I suppose when I was fifteen. I flipped out spontaneously on my Father, when he pulled an innocent prank on me back in our home. I remember seeing red, unaware that I was attacking him. He wasn't badly injured. Father is a very strong man. I gave him a black eye, and dug my fingernails in his shoulder until his skin was broken deep and bruising red. I felt like shit that day, hurting my old man..."

Dangelo was a perfect example of bipolar. He was very calm at times, until he was rubbed the wrong way - by a simple joke or a touch. He mind would go in shambles, driving him wild, to where he would be blinded by red blotches covering his vision, and attacking without his brain giving his fists permission to move. He was always afraid of his own strength, knowing fully well that he could seriously hurt someone, to where they could be mentally scarred.

Dangelo was an oddball. He was scared, fearful of making enemies of the islanders, and didn't want to be pointed out as the varied one. He could be like the other teenage boys, Eyes told him. He just needed to learn techniques of controlling himself.

"No medication this time... I makes me feel more pissed off." Dangelo warned Eyes, rubbing his brow in frustration. "Can I leave now?"

"Yes, go now." Eyes responded, dismissing him with a gesture of his hand to the iron exit door. "Do you want to borrow my buggy to get home?"

"Nah... I'll just walk my ass home. Need to clear my head on a few things." Dangelo pulled himself up from a couch he was lounging on. "But, hey, Eyes, I gotta tell you - I don't think this whole therapy thing is working for me." He rolled his tattooed shoulders, exhaling lightly when he felt his bones lax.

"It will. Stop being so negative." Eyes narrowed his eyes at the lad.

Dangelo mocked him with the same stare. "Oh, sorry. I'm just bipolar. Don't mean a thing. Don't tell me what to do." He warned, before strolling off to the iron door. "See you later." He lastly waved at Eyes before pulling open the heavy door, stepping out, and shut it behind his back.

* * *

Weeks after his doctor visit, Dangelo had tried to keep himself far from trouble. He had kept his mind occupied with the hobbies of hunting and repairing old vehicles for the other men on his coast that needed to drive into rocky roads to scavenge for weed plants or rare gold tigers for their pelts. Most of those blasted mammals had taken refuge into the difficult levels of travelling distance, finding safety there, since humans don't move as fast and swift like the animals. Jeeps plowing through those roads and chasing the rare animals could help.

"That arm of yours doing good, son?" Vaas asked Dangelo, surprising his boy with a heavy pat on the shoulder. He felt him jolt, while made him crack a grin and laugh. "Geez, Dangelo, it's just your old man!" He continued to laugh, not offended when Dangelo swatted his hand away. "What's the problem with this piece of junk?"

Dangelo was fixing up a buggy for a family friend - a young man named Nyx. Dangelo only found the problem with the old metal was that the engine was going out, old and overused over the years. No surprise to Dangelo - he would easily fix the problem - if only he had a proper buggy's engine that matched.

"Does that junkyard have a buggy that no one uses?" Dangelo asked his Father, tossing a wrench into a toolbox sitting on the ground.

"A couple, but what makes you think their engines still work?" Vaas questioned, raising a long brow at his Son.

Dangelo rolled his eyes, but amused his Father with his theatrical gestures. "Because," he threw his arms open dramatically, "I'm a spectacular mechanic!"

Again, Dangelo's old man barked out a hearty laugh.

Vaas hadn't changed much over the years. Was he still the same maniac high off drugs constantly? Of course he was. Even if the drugs were close to damaging his brain and frying out his nerves, he still used daily and nightly. His overuse of cocaine became something Dangelo was use to, not finding it possible for his Father to be cured - even though he would be most heartbroken if he had found his old man dead in his sleep. He had to get use to it. Drugs became Vaas' system. If he didn't have it, he would die either way. Just like alcohol - if the drinker didn't have it, they would suddenly die a horrible death.

His cybernetic arms had improved over the years - upgrading every year when Dynamite would rebuilt newer robotic limbs that were more human-like. His metal jaw had progress, too, even if it meant he would forever be a sharp-toothed cyborg. He had grown slightly taller, to where he was two-inches taller than Dangelo. His signature mohawk had never left - he shaved it down to the exact style every few months. His eyes? Still the same, beaming glow as the jungle's sunlight and greenery.

"What kind of engine will this one take, Sonny?" Vaas asked.

Dangelo rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "I believe it's a... hmm..."

But not long, til they heard a familiar woman's voice from the warehouse garage doorway.

"And how are my boys doing today?" Was Mickey's voice, speaking aloud in her usual, energetic tone. Dangelo's eyes lit up, hearing his Mother's cheery voice. Vaas' quirked a smirk to himself, hearing his wife. "Am I intruding some men-time right now, or should I be a bother anyhow?" Mickey asked her beloved boys, stepping into the warehouse anyways, approaching the two taller men.

Mickey hadn't change a bit, either. She was still a woman full of a positive feel on their coast of the island, quite the pesky one, though, when it came to being jovial. But, to an extent of her overactive positivism, it was actually from Mickey's genes that Dangelo was bipolar actually. Over the years, Mickey had discovered - from closer examination from Eyes and Dynamite - that _she _was a subject of bipolar depression. Her constant hyperactive and positive attitude was a sure-sign of "mania", which could easily switch to rage or sadness. When it came to light, Mickey went from denial, to anger, to sadness, then to forcefully accepting her bipolar depression.

How strange, though - Dangelo had no signs of Vaas' mentality, but more of Mickey's.

Genetics, Eyes would blame.

Mickey's Scottish-red, wavy hair had remained medium, liking her hair better if it weren't in her way. She was still a beautiful insanity, with one human eye, and one cybernetic eye that glowed a soft blue light. Her robotic parts had also been upgraded like Vaas', becoming more proactive. She only hoped to God or what else above their weary heads that nothing would ever happen to Dangelo that would force him to have a robotic limb. She wanted her Boy to remain overall human.

"No girls allowed." Vaas sarcastically mocked his wife, turning halfway to face her. "This is a man's job!"

"I only see one man here," Mickey glanced at her beaming Son, "and two ladies," she pointed at herself, and then at her husband.

Vaas dropped his jaw to that in shock, while Dangelo burst out laughing at his Father's reaction. "I'm not a girl!" Vaas raised his voice some, flustered at his Son for laughing. "If I were, though - I'd be the most buff _hermana _on this coast."

"Yuck, no," Dangelo made a disgusted look, furrowing his brows. "You'll be the most manliest woman on this coast with beefy biceps and overworked calves!"

Vaas barked out a laugh, and Mickey just rolled her eyes to that, with a smile. Dangelo grinned at both his parents.

"Vaas!" Mickey pointed dead-on at her husband. "We were suppose to be heading for the beach earlier, remember? For the broadcast?" She explained, with her voice reeling to remind him about their plans for the evening. "We've got ransom videos to make to some very concerned parents from America right now, yeah?"

"Ah, tut-tut-tut - I remember now." Vaas rolled his eyes, reminding himself. He then looked at his Boy. "You comin' or what, sonny? We're gonna broadcast... we're gonna make, like, uh... YouTube videos..." Vaas explained, while naturally gesturing his arms to make it dramatic.

Dangelo mirrored his Father's smirk. "Sure." The buggy's hood slammed shut.

They weren't a perfect family. A drug-fueled Father that made money by killing innocents; a bipolar-depressed Mother that was also a murderess; and a Son that was bound to carry on both his dysfunctional parents' legacy throughout the island's name. Some thing he was willing to do, once they were long gone from the world. Killing people? Sure, okay. Making money off of their kidnappings? Sounds like an easy deal.

"Just remember, Dangelo - what did I tell you about the definition of insanity?"

"A continuous cycle to make something perfect. I know, Father."

* * *

**The End of Vaas and Mickey's journey. Hope you enjoyed the read that I NEVER finished, but am so glad to write this one for ya'll. :)**


End file.
